


Best Present Ever

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 25 days of ficmas [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Shopping, F/M, Fluff, Lokyrie, Peter is Not Impressed, Platonic Relationships, loki and val are absolute shits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 18:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: After learning about gift giving traditions, the Asgardians go shopping with Peter to buy presents in secret for eachother. Poor Peter didn’t know what he was getting himself into.Day 4 of the 25 Days of Ficmas





	Best Present Ever

“So you’re telling me that I have to spend my money on other people? Without knowing what I’ll get in return?” Brunhilde asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. She toyed with the empty glass in her hands, tapping her nails on the expensive crystal. “Why would I do that?”

Her frown softened when Loki appeared beside her and filled the glass with one of Tony’s most expensive liquors. He moved to return the bottle but changed his mind at the last second, simply handing it over to Brunhilde and taking the smaller glass for himself. Softly trailing his fingers over the back of her thigh as she downed the alcohol, Loki said, “I do believe that the spiderling is serious.”

“I mean, that’s what Christmas is about,” Peter said, hanging down from the ceiling on a thick web rope. The other Avengers often reprimanded him for messing around inside the Compound but the two Asgardians didn’t care enough either way to stop him. “You get people presents as a way of showing them how much they mean to you. You trust that they know you well enough to get you something that you’ll like.”

Brunhlide laughed so hard that liquor came squirting out her nose, barely missing Peter where he hung in front of her. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she poked the kid’s shoulder so that he spun around and said, “Well, isn’t that just sickenly sentimental. How human.”

Not entirely sure whether or not to be offended by that, leaning towards not based solely on the fact that her smirk seemed slightly softer than usual, Peter asked, “Don’t you guys give presents on Asgard? How do you celebrate important dates?”

“We drink,” she grinned, finished up the last few drops that remained at the bottom of the bottle and tossing it against the window. “Deal with that will you, dear?”

Loki rolled his eyes as the glass shattered into a million pieces, this not being the first time (not even the first time this week) that Brunhilde had done this. However, he was less than keen to face the wrath of Stark again so flicked his wrist and drew on his seidr to fix the mess. A gentle green shimmer filled the empty space before the tiny shards of glass began to reassemble until the window was back in one piece.

“That was so cool,” Peter said, landing as light as a cat in front of the sofa where the other two sat. He practically skipped over to the window and ran his hands over the glass, trying to find any imperfections. Naturally, there were none.

“I’ve seen better,” Brunhilde chimed, earning her a glare Loki. She knew she’d pay for that comment later but was more than confident in her abilities to turn the tables on him. If she had her way, it would be Loki begging, not she, and the Norns knew that her darling husband would have it no other way.

Snuggling up against Loki’s side, comfortable to do so in company only because Peter was smart enough to never make sarcastic remarks about their relationship, Brunhilde said, “Earth traditions are so dull. Why not just fight and get drunk? That’s so much more fun.”

“We aren’t on Sakaar anymore, darling,” Loki said. He leant back into the sofa and let out a gentle, content sigh as Brunhilde tangled her fingers through his hair. “The mortals think themselves civilised. No fighting for them. Only hugs and cookies all around. Pitiful, really.”

“Sitting right here, guys,” Peter said, suddenly all the more determined to make them see how awesome Christmas could be. But however he tried to phrase it, be it as a celebration of spirituality, love and family, or just as a nice day off, he couldn’t get the Asgardians to agree with him.

Eventually, he got bored arguing - realising too late that they were purposefully trying to wind him up - and just gave up, laying on the ground and staring up at the ceiling. “Fine, I give up. You win. I’m going to bed.”

“But it’s barely two am!” the Valkyrie exclaimed. “Surely you can’t be tired yet?”

“He is only a child,” Loki reminded her. “A Midgardian one, at that.”

“Goodnight!” Peter yelled, deciding that he could hear no more Earth-bashing today. He stumbled back to his room, eyes blurry from a desperate need to sleep and was so tired that he walked straight through the illusion of Loki that was waiting for him in his room.

With an annoyingly bright green shimmed, burning Peter’s retinas in the otherwise dark room, the illusion reappeared and Loki said, “Well, that was rude.”

Clambering in to his bed without bothering to change his clothes - something that Aunt May would kill him for doing back at home - Peter threw the quilt covers over his head and groaned. “Go away. Sleepy.”

“In that case I will be quick,” Loki said, standing by the edge of the bed with his arms crossed. “I desire your help in choosing a present for Brunhilde.”

From somewhere under the covers, the god heard Peter mumbled, “You said presents are stupid.”

“And I still believe that the motives of mortals when it comes to giving gifts are flawed. Nonetheless, we are trapped here on Midgard and my brother has informed me that observing your holidays is important to our integration. Baring that in mind, I wish to present her with a gift on your Christmas Day to show her my love. You must not tell her but, somewhat unfortunately, I have no idea what to get her. Perhaps tomorrow, we may go in search of a suitable gift.”

“If I agree, will you stop talking and let me sleep?” Peter asked. Honestly, he wasn’t sure that he would last much longer either way, for Loki’s voice had a soft, musical quality that was dragging him deeper towards sleep with every passing second. Not bothering to wait for an answer, Peter agreed to help Loki shop for a gift and let out a sigh of relief when the green glow in the room faded away.

A grogginess fell over Peter’s brain as sleep began to take a hold however just before he slipped into the realm of dreams, he heard the door squeak open. Instincts taking over, his higher brain functions all but dead to the world, Peter leapt from his bed and landed on his desk, ready to attack the intruder with his grand weapon: a broken pencil.

To his sleepy mind, though, it was the most effective deterrent. And it obviously worked, for the intruder stopped dead in their tracks. Seconds later, though, they burst out laughing and even in this crazy state Peter recognised the Valkyrie’s laugh anywhere.

“I’m going to go shopping tomorrow and buy Loki a gift for Christmas,” she said, smirking as Peter’s wobbling figure stumbled back towards the bed. “You’re going to help me. Don’t tell Loki.”

“Fine. Whatever, Hilde. See you in the morning.”

Brunhilde had not expected the child to give in so easily but knew better than to argue with a good deal. Wishing him a fair evening, she slammed the door and disappeared down the hallway singing Asgardian songs of a grand battle that could be heard throughout the entire Compound. A chorus of tired, angry voices yelled at her to stop but it only spurred her on more.

Rolling over in his bed, Peter pulled a pillow down over his head and groaned when he heard Thor’s booming voice join in with the durge. Stupid Asgardians.

***

“Are you ready to go?” Brunhilde asked, resting her back against the kitchen counter beside Peter. He looked up from his textbook - he had to get his homework done some time while he was visiting the team at the Compound - and frowned in confusion. The Valkyrie rolled her eyes and said, “You said you’d come shopping with me and tell me what to buy Loki for your ridiculous Christmas celebrations.”

“I did?” the kid asked, mouth full of soggy cereal. He began to deny the fact he’d ever agreed to such a thing but the words slowed to a stop under Brunhilde’s intense glare. Swallowing deeply, Peter nodded and said, “You know, I think I remember now. Yeah. Let me go get dressed and I’ll meet you outside. Can you drive?”

“I can fly a galaxy class spaceship. I’m sure Stark’s fancy cars won’t be that hard to figure out. I bet I could even teach you.”

“I’ll ask Happy to take us,” Peter said decisively, rightfully worried about getting in a car with the Valkyrie. He’d heard many stories about her piloting skills and was not keen to be a part of her next crazy tale. Peter was brave but he was not - at least most of the time - stupid. It seemed safer to face the wrath of waking Happy early on a Sunday morning than letting Brunhilde go head to head with the taxi drivers of New York.

While getting dressed, Peter was scared out of his skin by Loki’s sudden appearance in his room. Tugging a hoodie over his head, Peter scowled, “I wish you would stop doing that. What do you want?”

“Charming,” Loki scoffed, without any real malice. “You agreed to assist me today.”

Popping his head out of the arm hole of his hoodie, a look of panic filled Peter’s face. As he struggled to right his clothes, he lost his balance and ending up tumbling on to his bed. Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, a terrible feeling that this day was only going to get much worse. “I did? Today? I’m just… I, uh… Plans… ”

Loki misunderstood Peter’s resistance as a nervousness to be around him and immediately became jaded. His arms crossed over his chest, his gaze harder than it had been moments before. The soft edges hardened, the gentleness usually reserved for the excitable child replaced by the cautious and uncaring facade the god wore around everyone else. “I see. In that case, I shall leave you be.”

“Wait!” Peter yelled, wishing that he had his web shooter to keep Loki in place. Then again, webbing the god of mischief didn’t seem all that sensible. Not entirely lying, Peter blurted, “Brunhilde said she’d teach me to drive. Don’t tell Mr Stark. He’d kill me if he found out.”

A soft smirk tugged on Loki’s lips, completely believing that that was the kind of stunt that his wife would pull. “You have my word, I shall tell Stark nothing. I assume that you will be free after your lesson to assist me, then?”

“Yeah, sure. Meet me at the mall in… an hour?” Peter suggested, thinking that that would be enough time to deal with Brunhilde. Little did he know that not even a year would have been enough.

For one, the Valkyrie had never been to a mall before. Everything about it seemed to catch her interest from the frenzied Christmas shoppers to the drunken elves in “Santa’s Grotto”. (Brunhilde was especially interested in visiting them, sensing their alcohol a mile off. In return for one of their ridiculous hats, she gave them each a swig from her Asgardian flask and spent a good half hour laughing her head off with the now substantially more drunk actors until the mall security guard appeared and threatened to haul her away for holding up the line.)

By the time Peter had finally managed to drag her away from the food court, her attention having been drawn specifically to the mulled wine stand, they were just about ready to start shopping when Peter got a text from Loki to say he had arrived at the mall.

“Come with me,” Peter said, grabbing Brunhilde by the arm. He tried not to think too hard about the way she instinctively pulled a dagger from inside her coat and pushed the point against his side. All but shoving her into a boutique selling overly priced suits and ties, he waved over a salesman who became incredibly nervous when he caught sight of her blade shimmering in the Christmas lights.

Peter elbowed Brunhilde and scowled until she put the small dagger away, then turning to the salesman with a smile so dazzling that it almost blinded the poor man. “Can you help my friend, please? She needs to buy something for her husband.”

The salesman had barely opened his mouth before Peter turned on his heels and ran out the shop, yelling to the Valkyrie that he’d be back in ten minutes and that she should at all costs avoid gutting the man. Peter slid down the handrail on the stairs, apologising profusely to everyone whose shopping he accidentally kicked on the way down. As he tumbled towards the entrance, he picked Loki out of the crowd with ease.

Guiding the god to the other side of the mall, Peter took Loki to a jewellery stand where he had bought Aunt May a necklace for her birthday last year. Looking over all the shining gold and jewels, Peter noticed Loki frowning and asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I fear that these are far too delicate for Brunhilde’s taste. Centuries on Sakaar made her tastes a little more… Gaudy. In fact she frequently refuses to wear even her wedding ring, so I fear this kind of gift would be quite unwelcome.”

Peter hummed in agreement. “You could get her clothes?”

“She hates the Midgardian styles. Very impractical for battle. They offer remarkably little protection against a blade.”

“Well, yes,” Peter said, guiding Loki away from the jewellery stand and towards a perfume stall instead. “That would be because most people don’t go around stabbing their significant others.”

“Mortals are very strange. In Asgardian culture, drawing a blade on someone and challenge them to a duel is a sign of great respect. One could almost liken it to a declaration of love or affection, if done properly.”

“And you think we’re the weird ones? How many times have you stabbed Brunhilde?” Peter asked curiously, He grabbed a curvy blue bottle and sprayed the perfume on his wrist, scrunching his nose up at the scent before shoving it back on the cart.

Loki copied Peter’s actions and began spraying different perfumes on his wrists, until he was wearing so many that he could hardly tell one from another. “I would never go so far as to stab my love but we do battle practically every day.”

“Who wins?”

“Winning is highly subjective in ritual combat. Since we do not fight to the death, it can be very difficult to determine a victor,” Loki said loftily, making Peter more certain than ever that the Valkyrie kicked his ass every single time. “What about yourself, spiderling?”

“I… Uh, I don’t do that. I… Oh, thank god.” Peter breathed a sigh of relief when he felt his phone ringing in his pocket but that quickly became panic when he saw who was ringing. Excusing himself from Loki for a moment, he answered quietly, “Brunhilde! Yes, I’m on my… You did what? Oh, god. Stay there, I’ll be with you in two minutes. Please try not to do anything else stupid.”

Peter pulled Loki to the next stand along and fabricated some excuse to excuse himself for a few minutes. The god didn’t quite seem to believe him but became distracted by a fight happening on the level below between a pair of drunk elves so didn’t push for further details. While Loki and everyone else was distracted by the brawl, Peter shot a web to the floor above and climbed up a nearby pillar to get to Brunhilde as fast as he possibly could.

Once again finding himself apologising profusely, Peter handed the man at the booth one of Tony Stark’s credit cards to pay for the damage that his friend had done. Looking around, Peter could barely believe that one person was responsible for such carnage. It was like an elephant had trampled its way through the boutique and left nothing in its wake but a trail of destruction.

Dragging her aside, Peter tugged at his hair so hard that he was sure it would start to fall out. Honestly, if he’d known baby sitting two Asgardians would be so difficult then he would never have agreed to this. He took a deep breath and said calmly, “You can’t just go around slashing clothes because you don’t like the cut, Hilde.”

“Oh, it had nothing to do with the cut,” she said. Her forehead crumpled into a frown when she took a sip from her hit flask and found it empty. Thankfully, she had another hidden away in a different pocket that was still mostly full. “I didn’t like the mortal running the shop. He kept staring at me and you told me that I couldn’t disembowel him so I did the next best thing and destroyed his stuff.”

“Okay… Well, I suppose I should just be glad you didn’t murder him.”

“That’s the spirit, kid! You want some?” Brunhilde held out her flask and for a second Peter truly did consider it. While less than a sip of that Asgardian alcohol would put him in a coma, it had to be easier than this. He quickly decided against it, though, and the Valkyrie was almost relieved. She valued her life a little too much to risk going to Tony and telling him that she’d nearly killed his adopted kid because his tiny body couldn’t handle real liquor. A wide smile on her face, Brunhilde took another long swig and said, “More for me, then. Where next?”

“There’s a shop over there that sells cufflinks. They might have some Loki would like to go with his suits?”

Looking over the intricate designs in the cabinet with a bored expression, Brunhilde turned to Peter and asked, “Earthlings are truly happy to receive tiny chunks of metal as a gift?”

“I suppose so?”

“Would you be happy to receive this as a gift?”

“Well, I don’t really wear suits…”

Her eyes lighting up just a little at a pair of shining gold cufflinks in the shape of daggers, Brunhilde said, “Hmmm. What would you want for Christmas, Pete?”

“I asked Aunt May for some new socks,” Peter shrugged, eyeing the golden cufflinks cautiously. He didn’t want Brunhilde to feel like he was pushing her to make a purchase but every moment he spent with her was a minute not with Loki and feared what might happen to an innocent shopper should the god get bored. “Are you going to buy those?”

“Yes, I rather think I will.” Peter almost whooped for joy but the minute after he handed the shop assistant the credit card, Brunhilde said, “I think they will go quite nicely with my armour. Oh, you thought I was getting these for Loki? No. I like them far too much to give to him.”

In his pocket, Peter’s phone began to ring and he knew before he even picked it up that it was Loki. Shoving Brunhilde into the next stall, which sold some kind of organic cheese and bath salts (a combination Peter only realised was a little strange many hours later), he promised to be back in ten minutes.

This back and forth continued for hours until Peter finally realised that the Asgardians were playing him. Both had known that he was shopping with the other and had been texting one another to coordinate the not so secret switch overs. Too exhausted to deal with them any longer, Peter webbed them securely to a pillar in the back of the mall and called Happy around to take him back to the Compound.

“Have fun, kid?” the driver asked. Peter didn’t say anything and Happy assumed the worst so took him to McDonalds on the way back to the Compound for ice cream, which cheered him up immensely.

That good mood turned to fear when they arrived back at the Compound to find Loki and Brunhilde waiting for Peter by the door. Happy patted him heartily on the shoulder and wished him luck, disappearing as quickly as possible to park the car and get away from the showdown.

“Sorry for webbing you up,” Peter mumbled, offering what was left of his ice cream as a peace offering.

“Save your apologies, spiderling,” Loki said, turning his nose up at the ice cream. Brunhilde, on the other hand, all but snatched it from his hands and quite happily ate the rest while her husband made the eloquent apology for them both. “We did not mean to make you miserable. It was merely a little fun and you are surprisingly entertaining company for one so young.”

“You’re a good kid,” the Valkyrie added, winking at Peter and nudging Loki in the side. “Give him the present. You’ll love it.”

Ignoring his protests, Loki waved his hands in the air and conjured a terribly wrapped gift. He handed it over and wrapped his arm around Brunhilde’s waist, both of the Asgardians more nervous about the gift than they were letting on.

When Peter opened it, he burst out laughing. A frilly pair of pink socks (girls, size: ages 4-5), a handful of tiny candies that looked like spiders (and had definitely been left over from Halloween) and a little dagger (which may well have actually been a letter opener) with a black and red handle. Much to their surprise, Peter threw his arms around their shoulders and muttered a quiet but genuine thank you.

The presents may have sucked but it didn’t matter because, at least in his mind, the Asgardians had learned the meaning of gift giving. As cheesy and ridiculous as it sounded - a hard line for Peter to draw now that this was his life - there wasn’t a better present in the entire world.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think :D


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